


Pinocchio

by CheyRain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Back From Hell, Discussion of dysphoria, F/M, Gen, Happy Ending, In male body now, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, John is transphobic/homophobic, Lazarus Rising also, Might Add More, Parts of script used, Pilot Episode, Sam is accepting, Sees Bobby and Sam, Starts out teen Dean then goes to episode 1, Tears, Transman Dean, john is a douche, not sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 10:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7265200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyRain/pseuds/CheyRain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am a boy!" He screamed at his father, tears running down his face.</p><p>"Damnit, Deanna, no you're not!" He shouted back.</p><p>"Yes, I am." He sobbed. "Yes, I am, yes, I am, yes, I am." His hands came up to cover his face.</p><p>"De," He said, softening, "Why do you think that?"</p><p>"My skin is wrong! It doesn't fit. Everytime you call me a girl or a she, it, it hurts! I don't like it, it's not me." His tone was desperate.</p><p>Dean just wants to be a real boy, why can't his father see that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part of this is word for word from the script, with only parts put in to fit the storyline. Some of the grammar is also very wrong but I write a majority in dialogues and emotions, which is not always grammatically correct. Another point is that I am neither a boy or a girl so some of what I wrote could be wrong due to that. I am also not allosexual and don't know how to write about someone's immediate physical interest. I can write about deep gradual love but sexual attraction doesn't make sense to me. Also, John has some very transphobic and homophobic comments that do not reflect my own views.  
> The point of view is mostly Dean focused third person omniscent, which means most of it focuses on Dean and Dean's impressions but some parts of it are from other character's points of view and all of it is using he/him pronouns.

" _I am a boy!"_ He screamed at his father, tears running down his face.

"Damnit, Deanna, no you're not!" He shouted back.

"Yes, I am." He sobbed. "Yes, I am, yes, I am, yes, I am." His hands came up to cover his face.

"De," He said, softening, "Why do you think that?"

"My skin is  _wrong!_ It doesn't  _fit._ Everytime you call me a girl or a she, it, it  _hurts!_ I don't like it, it's not  _me."_ His tone was desperate.

"How does it hurt, Deanna? Like a curse? Did you get cursed?" He stepped towards his child, all of 14, in concern.

"No, Dad, I, I didn't get  _cursed_. I've  _always_ felt like that."

"Why didn't you say something?" He was trying to insert logic, after all how could his daughter be a boy?

"I didn't know I could be this way. I thought it was normal, that I could be just me, and you didn't care if I wanted to wear jeans and superhero tshirts, and, and climb trees or rough house, or keep my hair short. You didn't care until I got to high school. Then I'm supposed to, what? Suddenly start liking pink and sparkles and dresses? Suddenly I'm supposed to  _care_ about makeup, and boys, and whatever other bullshit things girls are supposed to be?"

"De, I know the system's fucked, but that doesn't give you the right to say you're a boy now."

"Who gives you the right to say that I'm not? Is it my body? Is it biology? Well, fuck that! I didn't ask for this body, for this fucking shape. It doesn't fit me, it isn't mine, not the way I want it to be."

"De?" A soft voice came from behind him. He turned to see his little brother rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Why are you and Dad fighting?" Dean just slumped, feeling exhausted suddenly.

"Don't worry about it, Sammy. I'm sorry we woke you."

"What? It's not even important enough for you to tell your brother about?" John snorted derisively.

"Fuck you. It is very important to me. Doesn't mean that right now is the time to tell him. Somehow I think he'll give a lot less of a shit about it than you apparently seem to. Just remember, I didn't ask for this."

"Well, I didn't ask for a dyke of a daughter either, and look what I got."

*******

_12 years later_

"Whoa, easy, tiger."

"Dean?" He laughs.

"You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's 'cause you're out of practice."

Sam quickly moves, slamming Dean on the floor. "Or not. Get off of me."

They move until they are standing. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I was looking for a beer."

Oh, there's Sam's Bitch Face. He wondered how long it would take to appear. "What the hell are you doing here? What happened to you? You transitioned?"

"Yeah, I did, Sammy. Okay. All right. We gotta talk."

"Uh, the phone? You couldn't have used it?"

"If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?"

Suddenly the lights turn on and he turns to see a sexy woman in a Smurfs tshirt and shorts. "Sam?"

"Jess. Hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." Damn, little brother got lucky. He checks her out.

"Wait, your brother Dean?" He grinned, heart warm from those words.

 

"Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league."

"Just let me put something on." She smiled at him, moving to leave.

"No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously. Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you."

"No." Sam moves over wrapping an arm around Jess. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her." Really, kid?

"Okay." God, how to word this in front of a civilian? "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean shuffles awkwardly. "Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days."

Dean can see the awareness on Sam's face as he thought about those words. "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

After they move outside, how of sight and hearing of Jess, Sam turns and smacks Dean's arm.

 

"I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you."

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him."

"You really going to go after Dad? After how he treated you?"

"Well, yeah, he's Dad. He's family."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine."

"Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with me or not?"

"I'm not."

"Why not?" What the hell, kid?

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." Hey, Bitch Face again.

"Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45"

"Well, what was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark."

"Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."

"What about a year after that, huh? When I woke up to you two screaming at each other after he refused to accept that you're transgender?"

"Well, he got over it."

"Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. His absolute refusal to accept anyone different. God, his obsession is awful but we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we _can_ find."

"We save a lot of people doing it, too." Can't you see that? Isn't that worth it?

"You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Sam asked, softly. "The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors."

"Yeah, and I loved it. I loved being a warrior, Sam. You know, a real man's man."

"Ok Dean."

"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?"

"No. Not normal. Safe."

"And that's why you ran away.

"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." There was a moment of silence before he continued, "I can't do this alone."

"Yes you can."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to."

Sam sighed, resigned, "What was he hunting?"

Dean smirked. He knew Sam wouldn't be able to resist in the end.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some parts are word for word from the Supernatural Wiki script. Actually a lot of it is. I just turned it to fit my writing style on some parts and to fit my overall plot line.  
> This chapter was inspired by a comment made by TheNumber1HeroAMERICA (TheMasterOfAllThingsSirius)

He woke up in the dark before he found a match in his pocket and lit it. Pine boards stared back at him. He tried screaming "Help! Help!" but his voice was gone, nearly too hoarse for himself to hear. Panic began to well up in him as he came to realize where he was. A coffin. He was buried alive.

Oh God, was this a new type of torture? He had to get out. He had to get away before they came for him. He hit the boards, knocking dirt onto his face. He kept going. Eventually he pulled himself through to the....sunlight? What the hell? In the last 40 years he had not seen sunlight.

It was beautiful. He looked around the field surrounding him. Really, what the hell happened? Trees were knocked down in a circle around him, grass gone as well.

What did Sammy do?

He got out and started walking. He needed to find water. God, did he need a drink. And food. And a phone. Fuck, his arm hurts. Where the hell was he?

Oh, there's the road. That looks familiar. Ok, gas station not too far. He walks towards it. Why was he buried anyways? What the hell, Sammy?

He gets to the gas station and gets several waters. He notices the mirror and stands, startled. He had been masculine before, the result of several years on T and top surgery. Not to mention the way he carried himself, confidence is everything. Also, he had been ripped to shreds.

He raises his shirt. His muscles were different than before, also more masculine, more defined. His scars were gone. All of his scars were gone. Even his surgical scars. What about the shreds? Where the hell were those marks? Scars? Cuts? Bleeding wounds? Something?

His arm stings as he pulls to shirt to show a blister. A large blister. Making the shape of a hand. What the hell? Sammy what did you do?

His ears ring, what the hell? Glass shatters and holy shit do his ears hurt. He tries quickly to salt around the windows and doors but he can't do much while covering his eyes. Fuck. He collapses.

Then it stops. He's fine. Ears bleeding a little but he's fine. He grabs his new stuff and leaves.

Eventually he comes across a phone booth and he calls Sam who's phone was discontinued. Smart kid. Sucks now. He calls Bobby who then hangs up on him. Well, he can't really blame him considering he was dead, he's pretty sure anyways.

He leaves, stealing a car. Heads to Bobby's. Maybe he can get a hold of Sam for him.

"Surprise." He grins at him once he opened the door.

"I, I don't..."

"Yeah, me neither. But here I am."

Bobby suddenly lunges forward and swings a knife at him, he grabs his arm twisting him around, getting away.

"Bobby! It's me!"

"My ass!"

He shoves a chair at Bobby, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed, and... you're about the closest thing I have to a father. Bobby. It's me."

He drops the knife, moving close before swinging it up again, Dean barely caught it. "I am not a shapeshifter!"

"Then you're a Revenant!"

Dean grabs the knife from him when he swings again. "Alright. If I was either, could I do this – with a silver knife?" He grimaces as he put the knife against his freshly unmarked skin, slicing it. 

"Dean?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you."

Bobby starts to cry, moving to grab him, this time in a hug. He clings back, nearly crying too. "It's... It's good to see you, boy."

"Yeah, you too."

"But... how did you bust out?" Good freaking question.

"I don't know. I just, uh, I just woke up in a pine box..." Suddenly water hits his face, cutting him off. "I'm not a demon either, you know."

Bobby just shrugs. "Sorry. Can't be too careful." They move to the kitchen and Dean wipes his face. "But... that don't make a lick of sense."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're preachin' to the choir."

"Dean. Your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop. And you've been buried _four months_. Even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit -"

"I know, I should look like a Thriller video reject." He hesitates. "My surgical scars are gone too. All of my scars from before are gone." Bobby takes that in for a moment.

"What do you remember?" Nothing he wants to share.

"Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then... lights out. Then I come to six feet under, that was it." Suddenly a worry hits him. "Sam's number's not working. He's, uh... he's not..."

"Oh, he's alive. As far as I know."

Dean's shoulders slump in relief. "Good.... Wait, what do you mean, as far as you know?"

"I haven't talked to him for months."

"You're kidding, you just let him go off by himself?"

"He was dead set on it." Stubborn ass kid.

"Bobby, you should've been looking after him."

"I tried. These last months haven't been exactly easy, you know. For him or me. We had to bury you." His voice wobbles.

"Why did you bury me, anyway?"

"I wanted you salted and burned. Usual drill. But... Sam wouldn't have it."

"Well, I'm glad he won that one."

"He said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow. That's about all he said."

"What do you mean?"

"He was quiet. Real quiet. And then he just took off. Wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found."

"Oh, damnit, Sammy."

"What?"

"Oh, he got me home okay. But whatever he did, it is bad mojo." Stupid ass kid.

"What makes you so sure?"

"You should have seen the grave site. It was like a nuke went off. And then there was this... this force, this presence, I don't know, but it, it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then this." He moves showing the hand print. "And my scars being gone."

Bobby moves closer to the hand print, studying it. "What in the hell?"

"It was like a demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out." Though why that would leave a scar....

"But why?"

"To hold up their end of the bargain."

"You think Sam made a deal."

"It's what I would have done." Hell, it's what he did do. "Bobby, I'm going to use the john and freshen up. Being dead for that long don't make for a good smell."

****

He's standing in the bathroom, looking down between his legs. What the actual hell? Where he'd been smooth before there was now a dick. Scars were one thing but holy shit.

What kind of deal did Sammy make to fully transform him? He had to find Sam soon to get some answers.

****

He's on the phone. "Yeah, hi, I have a cell phone account with you guys, and uh, I lost my phone. I was wondering if you could turn the GPS on for me. Yeah. Name's Wedge Antilles. Social is 2-4-7-4. Thank you."

"How'd you know he'd use that name?"

"You kiddin' me? What don't I know about that kid?"

He grabs the laptop, and notices the alcohol bottles stashed around him. "Hey, Bobby? What's the deal with the liquor store? What, are your parents out of town or something?"

"Like I said. Last few months ain't been all that easy." His heart hurts at that.

"Right."

The laptop beeps; the display shows a city map with a blue arrow pointing to a star. The locator reads:

Phone Location:  
263 Adams Road  
Pontiac, Illinois.

"Sam's in Pontiac, Illinois."

"Right near where you were planted."

"Right where I popped up. Hell of a coincidence, don't you think?" Damn kid.

****

They are walking into a sketch ass hotel before knocking on one of the doors. A sexy woman answers the door in just a tank top and panties. "So where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"The pizza.....That takes two guys to deliver?"

"Hey is....." Sam.

He steps forward, his voice thick. "Heya, Sammy."

He moves closer and is shocked when Sam swings a knife at him. The woman is screaming behind him. Bobby catches him, stopping him.

"Who are you!?"

"Like you didn't do this!" He shouts back.

"Do what!?"

"It's him. It's him. I've been through this already, it's him." Thanks, Bobby.

Sam stops fighting, staring at Dean. "What?"

He moves forward slowly, waiting for a knife to swing at him again. "I know. I look fantastic, huh?"

Sam moves forward grabbing him and they cry.


End file.
